Anna and the St Clair Sleepovers
by chlday
Summary: Picks up after Chapter 46 of Anna and the French Kiss.


So this is the part where things might get awkward. Or they might not! That would be great if they didn't, because I really don't want this night to end outside my dorm. Which is where I happen to be standing. Right now. Facing Étienne St. Clair.

Well, okay, not exactly _facing _Étienne St. Clair.

Kissing. I am _kissing_ Étienne St. Clair!

For only like the thousandth time today, and it is not getting old, oh no, not at all. I could do this all day everyday! I don't need to sleep or eat or drink water, I don't need anything else in the world, his lips could sustain me _forever_.

Oh please, don't have this night end here.

Please please please have him ask to stay the night in my room like we did over Thanksgiving weekend, ugh, where is that Point Zéro star when I need it?!

He pulls away, reeling wildly backwards and sucking in a deep breath, like he's been underwater for too long.

Okay. So maybe it's unrealistic to expect us to just go on, completely sustained for the rest of our lives, purely from kissing. I guess we do need to like, _breathe_ every once in a while.

He's smiling at me. His chest is rising and falling so fast, for a second I wonder if he's okay, and then it hits me again that I was just sucking his face for the past who-knows-how-long, and right, people need to breathe. Duh.

"Anna," he grins. Clears his throat. His eyes are so hopeful. "That wasn't, er, a good-night kiss… was it?"

"No!" I answer way too quickly, my knees practically buckling with relief.

We're spending the night together. Again!

Except this time he doesn't have a girlfriend! Well – I guess that's not entirely true, because I'm his girlfriend now! HA! Which means—

Which means…

Oh.

Wait, what does this mean?

But before I can even process my own question, his lips crush against mine again, and he circles his arms around my waist, and I'm dazed by the heat and taste of him for one luxurious moment before he pulls away, promising he'll be right back in a minute. Then he turns and jogs down the hall, sprints up the stairwell.

To his room.

Where he will change into something comfier to wear in his sleep.

OR WHAT IF—

I stumble inside my room and slam the door shut behind me, unintentionally hard.

Because what if that's not what he's doing, he's slept in his jeans in here before, so what if—

He's getting—

Things.

Like.

_Condoms_?!

Would he do that? I have no idea if he would do that or not.

Rashmi said he and Ellie used to do _it_.

And he said he _loves _me.

And I love him back.

And we've been in love this whole stupid year, but neither of us could figure out what to do about it until just now, so what exactly is going to happen tonight?

Are we going to take things slow?

Or are we going to… make up for lost time?

Okay, calm down. _Calm_ down, Anna, you're fine. Everything is totally cool. It's just St. Clair! Right? He's not _expecting _anything, he's not going to pressure you into anything, so just breathe like a normal person and be calm.

Calm. Be calm.

ACK! There's a knocking at my door and I practically just jumped out of my skin. I haven't even changed into my pajamas yet!

Wait, oh no, _pajamas! _What do girls wear when they sleep with their new boyfriends?! Do they wear pajamas like usual, or am I supposed to follow some kind of dress code?

OH AND I MEAN SLEEP LIKE INNOCENT SLEEP!

Like casual, sleep together. Not have sex, sleep together.

I think.

"Anna?"

Okay, screw a dress code. It's not like I have anything sexy to wear anyway. And he's already seen my strawberry pants and Batman pajamas so he won't exactly be surprised, and wow, is it getting really hot in here or is that just me?

"Anna, are you okay?" He sounds concerned.

"Fine!" I squeak through the door, a little too gleefully. "I'm just changing, give me a second!"

Okay. You're cool, Anna. You're cool.

And now you're wearing the Batman pajamas. Because you're cool, and you have an extremely attractive new boyfriend waiting outside, and you're making him stand out there all alone, which is pretty uncool. Okay.

I open the door.

Étienne exhales. "Finally," he grins. "You had me worried."

"Ha," I say. And I literally do say the word _ha. _Then it occurs to me that I should probably apologize, so I quickly add, "I'm sorry!"

He steps into my room, and I can tell he's definitely concerned, but he's trying to hide it by keeping his voice light as he asks, "So you're sure about this? Me being here?"

I nod. "Of course!"

Because I am sure. I'm just jittery, that's all. I'm jittery and inexperienced, and he's gorgeous and probably a pro. Also, I'm sweating, which is just fantastic. I finally get Étienne to myself, and I have him all alone in my _bedroom, _and my hands are all clammy and I may or may not be developing sweat stains under my armpits. How romantic.

Étienne looks into my eyes, and his features relax like he might be reading my mind. Up until he reaches for my hands, then I realize he DEFINITELY isn't reading my mind, or else he would have known to steer clear of them right now. Oh my God, this is embarrassing. Oh_ please_ don't think I'm gross.

I place my hands in his. He doesn't seem to notice their clamminess.

He says, "Anna."

"Yes?"

"We can take things as slow as you want. Talk to me. Tell me what's on your mind. Obviously, communication is something we need to work on, and I don't want there to be any distance between us anymore. I don't want us to keep misinterpreting each other. Okay?"

I exhale. He's right. "Okay."

He raises his eyebrows. "Well go on, then."

Argh. "I'm just so – inexperienced," I say lamely. "I don't know what you're expecting, but I… don't want to disappoint you? Does that make sense?"

He removes his hands from mine and places them on either side of my face. Maybe he did notice.

"It does, but you're worrying over nothing, Anna. I don't have any expectations. I just want _you, _understand?"

My heart thumps in my chest. And I can't think of anything to say, because my knees are feeling kind of weak, and my eyes are drifting to his mouth.

And I decide I don't like all this worrying and over-thinking.

I have _Étienne St. Clair _in my _bedroom!_

I have much better things to do than stand here and worry.

So I throw myself at him.

I wish I could say I throw myself at him gracefully, or even passionately, but I really just throw myself at him clumsily. And I knock him backwards. Against my bed. And I pin him down on the mattress, which was totally NOT my intention, but as I blush and start to scramble away from him, his fingers catch in my hair, and he pulls my lips down onto his.

And now I'm not going anywhere. No way. You couldn't _pay me _to go anywhere.

This is exactly where I want to be.

This is exactly what I want to be feeling.

His lips moving against mine, his chest pressed against my chest, his arms circling around me, his hands roving up and down my back. I tangle my own fingers in his hair. I tilt my head to the side, deepening the kiss, tasting a moan as it rises in his throat.

Oh my God. He's _moaning. _Because of _me! _

Ha! Wow, I feel like I'm floating and swimming in the sky.

He tastes so sweet, it's making me _crazy. _I could drown in this sweetness and bliss, I might not ever be the same after this, I don't know what's happening, there aren't words, there's just his mouth and his hands and his body beneath mine and I am going insane. Totally insane.

And then he hooks one leg around my hips and turns me over, and now he's on top of me, and I'm not just insane, I'm _delirious. _His weight presses down on top of me. His lips skim across my cheek and land on the side of my neck.

And it feels so—

TICKLY!

But it's a good tickly, igniting warm trills all the way down to my toes, and I'm starting to gasp for air, and I'm wondering if this is what orgasms are like?!

Am I having some kind of orgasm right now, is that what's going on here?!

Is it possible to be a lightweight in terms of sexual pleasure? Like how some people are lightweight drinkers?

Oh my God. This is incredible, but I'm all squirmy and breathless and AH!

GOD! THIS TICKLES SO BAD, BUT IN SUCH A GOOD WAY!

Um.

"Étienne?"

He's laughing. Why is he laughing? His whole body is shaking he's laughing so hard.

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "Am I tickling you? Is this too much?"

Oh my God. This is so embarrassing. I turn my face away from him, and try to crawl away, but he just crawls along with me.

"Oh Anna, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude, I just," he takes a deep breath to collect himself. Resumes with a steady voice, "I'm just so giddy. I don't think I've ever been this happy."

I freeze. Turn my head a fraction to look at him. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"I love that," he says. "Those sounds, the way you keep writhing," he blushes and looks away. "I bloody love it."

He can't look at me. Holy crap. My chest feels hot, I feel hot _everywhere, _but I like it though – I like his directness. So I figure it's only fair that I be direct with him, too.

"Well I love it when you kiss me like that," I say. My voice quivers a little, but oh well.

He's looking at me again. And his eyes are alight with mischief.

I wrap my arms around his neck, and we're kissing again.

And I'm back in complete and total bliss.

And I can't help but wonder – if kissing feels this good, what is the other stuff like?


End file.
